Graft vs Host
by Metropolis Kid
Summary: Just a closer look at the scene where Peter frees himself of the alien Symbiote and Venom is first born. My first Spider-Man fic. Oneshot.


**Graft vs Host**

**AN: **This story draws on elements from various canon sources as such it may not fit in perfectly with the third movie's back-story, though I don't THINK there's any conflicting data.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.

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**REJECTION! **It knew that pain well. It had long since been rejected by the rest of its race. And why? Why, because it sought a permanent union with its hosts. The others like it were only concerned with meeting their own needs. They drained their hosts until there was nothing left, but it couldn't do that. Tired of the loss it felt from countless mergers that all ended in the death of the host, the death of what had become a part of itself, the symbiote had developed a longing for something more lasting, a permanent joining. And for this the rest of its race had labeled it 'insane' and banished it. Yes, the symbiote knew the pain of rejection very well... but not like this, never like this. Never from a host, a part of itself.

The church bell rang, the painful noise flooding the air and further weakening the symbiote's grasp. The host pulled with all his might, no... more than *his* might. They were still one, and the host turned the enhanced strength, the strength that the symbiote gave, against the very thing that bestowed it.

Why? Why was the host doing this? The symbiote simply didn't understand it. It had no desire to harm its host. Indeed all it had ever done was make the creature stronger, more independent, more confident. It had taken the host, who was living the life of a runt, and given him what he needed to become an alpha. And all it could do as it fought to hold onto the host, to keep the shared entity that they were together, was question, '_why?'_

_'Why?'_ The word sounded like a cold-blooded, reptilian hiss as it invaded Peter's mind. Was... was this thing serious? It was turning him into a monster. And it... '_you hurt her,'_ Peter thought as the bell rang again, and the symbiote shrieked in his mind.

Hurt her? Was that really what this was all about? Was it being rejected because that... creature its host wanted to mate with had gotten hurt? It hadn't hurt her. *It* didn't care enough about her to be concerned with hurting her. The only reason that other creature had any value to it was because of how the host felt about her.

'_We didn't hurt her. *You* did that. We only freed you to act as you wanted._' Once again the hissing voice invaded Peter's mind and this time it sent real shivers down his spine. Had... had he really wanted to hurt her? The hero's eyes went wide as he realized that yes, yes he had. She'd hurt him with her rejection, and he wanted to hurt her back. That was why he'd taken Gwen to the night club in the first place.

It was true. He had wanted to hurt her. It was his fault. And as Peter realized this, he fell to his knees and felt his will to fight slowly drain away.

Had the inky, black ooze that made up the symbiote's form been capable, it would've sighed in relief. Its host had stopped struggling, and it was slowly crawling back over the ground it had lost. Then the bell rang again, and the symbiote couldn't help but release another shriek of pain.

Still, it didn't mind... not greatly anyway. The host had stopped fighting against it. Soon they would be one once again, and that was all that really mattered. Besides, this would be better for the long run. That creature had driven a wedge between them; she'd proven herself an obstacle. And now... we'll given the hosts current thoughts it seemed unlikely she would come between them again.

Unfortunately, for the symbiote, it had been just a little bit too free with its thoughts; and as they swarmed through Peter's own mind his resolve strengthened. '_NO!_' he shouted at the monster coating his body. And the hero rose to his feet once more. '_She is not an obstacle; I love her!!!_'

Peter's mental declaration aligned almost perfectly with another ring of the church bells; and as pain once more shot through the symbiote, the host used that opportunity to gain ground in his struggle for independence.

It was rejected once more, being violently torn from the host, the host who provoked the only desire that truly belong to it and it alone, the desire to be joined. Every other motive the symbiote felt was only a result of the emotions of its host. The only thing it could really lay claim to on its own was wanting to remain one with him.

_'No, don't. We are one. We are a part of each other. Together we are whole. Together we are strong. Together we can do anything. Don't rip us apart. Don't let *us* die,'_ the symbiote pleaded, and Peter actually detected a slight note of... vulnerability (?) in its reptilian hissing.

It took all the hero's strength not to give in. He was hurting this... thing. He knew it. He could feel it. And they were still partially joined, the symbiote's pain echoing through Peter's own soul. It was the emotional equivalent of trying to tear one's own arm off. But still, he kept at it.

It was gut wrenching. He wanted to run. He wanted to cry. He wanted to lean over the side of the tower and puke up everything he'd eaten in the last month... He wanted to let go of the sides and plummet to his death. But as his aunt's words rang in his head, paralleling another ring in his ears, the hero allowed himself none of those indulgences.

"_A man needs to put his wife before himself. Can you do that, Peter?"_ He was doing that now. He was putting *her* first, placing her above even that which had become a part of himself. And, with a final jerk and an almost feral cry of pain and triumph, the hero finally managed to completely free himself of the symbiote.

Peter staggered backwards. His head throbbed. And as he saw the inky ooze beginning to slowly slither back over to him, the man realized that he had to get away and recover, lest he lose everything he'd just gained. Slinging a web, Spider-Man quickly fled the church tower.

As it felt its former host leaving, the symbiote felt an overpowering sense of loss. It was rejected again, cast aside... banished. And this time the betrayal struck even closer to home. This time it was not its race rejecting it but its host, a being with which it had shared the closest bond possible.

The church bell rang a final time, sending waves of physical pain through the symbiote that mirrored its emotional suffering; and, to escape the only part of its pain that was possible, it spread itself out and seeped between the boards of the church tower.

It descended into the church proper, and there it felt... something. It felt the hate of another of this planet's indigenous creatures, a hate specifically directed at its former host. And the symbiote immediately felt a kinship with this creature.

Through its previous host, the symbiote had learned of the concept of love. Love, in its simplest form, was nothing more than the overpowering need for the companionship of a specific individual. It had felt that for its previous host. In effect, it had loved him, and it still did... in a way.

However, with love came its corrupted form: hate. Hate was not the opposite of love, but merely a twisted form of the same.

This new creature hated its former host because he had cost him two things which he loved, his job and his girl. It was that love, misplaced and corrupted, that caused the man kneeling in the church pews to hate the symbiote's former host.

However, its own hate was simpler. It had been rejected and hurt by what it loved, and now... now it wanted to hurt him back, to repay him in kind.

And so a new joining took place as the alien symbiote dripped down and coated the body of the man praying for another's death. However, unlike the first joining this one was formed by the bond of a shared hatred, a desire for revenge. And as the new monster rose up, another one of May's sangs floated through its intermingling thoughts.

"_... with revenge in our hearts. It's like a poison. It can-- It can take you over. Before you know it, turn us into something ugly." _A poison, huh? Well, if they were going to be poison then they would be...

"We are Venom!" the new monster roared. "And we will make you pay, Peter. Oh, yes... You will pay for what you did to us," it continued and then let out a dark, sick, sort of crackling laughter.

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(Well, what did you think? I hope you all enjoyed it.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


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